


Five times Nate nearly gave Elena a heart attack

by Shapeshifter99



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: 5 + 1 Things, F/M, Mentions of Blood, Plus stuff in between, Spoilers for all the games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 21:00:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7330480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shapeshifter99/pseuds/Shapeshifter99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(And one time he didn't). Five times our favorite treasure hunter nearly caused a heart attack for our favorite journalist over the years, as well as one time he didn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A moment during the first game where Nate falls through a hole (again) and causes some undue stress.

Elena Fisher wasn’t quite sure what she’d been expecting when she signed on to find the body of Sir Francis Drake. It certainly wasn’t to go gallivanting throughout the world with an insane man who claimed to be his descendant. Or getting shot at. Or dealing with zombie-spider-monster... things.

And yet, here she was.

“Look out!”

Elena ducked, reacting instinctively to the voice as what looked like a giant beam swung over her head, sending a gust of air that brushed against her hot neck.

Once the danger had passed, she jerked up to stare incredulously at a very sheepish Nathan Drake.

“What the hell was that?” she asked, taking the opportunity to brush some of the mud and dirt from her knees. The grime came away on her hands and she grimaced before wiping them down on her pants again.

“I might’ve tried to climb up to see if there was a way out,” Nathan said, sounding evasive. “Or something.”

“Or something,” Elena retorted, glancing at the beam, which was actually a thick metal bar from the ceiling that had undoubtedly broken under Nathan’s weight.

“I’m sorry?” Nate tried, giving her a quirked grin.

Elena sighed and shrugged her shoulders before turning. They’d been stuck in this large bunker room for what felt like hours now, even though it’d only been a few minutes since they’d slammed the door in the faces of several monsters. At least they hadn’t seen any bad guys since then and the beasties didn’t seem to be getting through.

As she thought it, dust and grit billowed from the ceiling with a hiss and she shivered lightly. The place was undoubtedly creepy and the journalist suddenly couldn’t wait to get back outside again.

“So, what do you think—” Elena began, only to be interrupted by a sharp yelp and the sound of crumbling cement.

She whipped around in shock, only to see Nathan’s flailing hands as the floor beneath him collapsed.

“NATE!” she shouted in panic, lunging forward to try and grab the young man. But she was nowhere near and she slid to a halt at the edge of the gaping hole, crowned by twisted iron spikes. Nate’s yell kept going, only to abruptly cut off and Elena felt her entire body freeze.

She stared at the split in the ground, unconscious of the spiderweb-thin cracks in the floor and the thick stone dust in the air.

“Nate?” she said, her voice startlingly quiet in the aftermath of the chaos. Even though she still felt cold all over, she mustered her strength and shouted out a lot more loudly, “NATE?”

No answer.

Elena’s brain was stuck between trying to stand still and trying to process what had just happened at lightning speed. All it did was keep her curled up on the cold floor, her breath coming out in short, rapid gasps and a slight tremor beginning to shake her hands.

“NATHAN!”

Her voice was a yell, an echo of the sudden terror that had implanted itself in her brain. What if he was unconscious? What if he was dead? She’d be defenceless, she’d be alone... Sullivan was too far away to ever get to in time—No, she needed to get herself together and _calm down_.

But all of a sudden, all Elena could think about was that she wasn’t sure if she’d ever said thank you to Nathan for saving her life or dragging her into this crazy, impossible adventure.

“Elena?” a weak voice said from below.

The journalist’s head snapped up, her eyes stinging from her panic and lurching grief.

“Nate?” she called out, her voice cautious. “Is that you?”

A low groan echoed up to her hopeful ears. “Uh... yeah. I fell?” It sounded more like a question and Elena had to bite back the sudden fury that had erupted in her brain.

“You _fell?!_ ” she snapped. “No shit you _fell_ , Nathan! I thought you were dead!”

She aimed her words directly into the hole in the ground and she waited with an almost gleeful anticipation for Nate to reply to her anger.

“I’m sorry,” came the treasure hunter’s disembodied voice. He actually sounded guilty. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Elena bit back another retort, some semblance of rationale returning to her. She realized that the sudden emotional high of thinking Nate had died was causing her to lash out with anger when it was really because she’d been scared.

“I’ll try to find a way up,” Nate said when she didn’t reply, and Elena could hear him grunt as he got to his feet. There was the crunch and slide of rubble and she winced, thinking again of the collapse.

The noises paused for a moment. “Elena?” There was an edge of worry to Nate’s voice.

“I’m here,” Elena replied, rubbing her temple. “Do you need a light?”

“Yeah, if you could get me one, that would be great.”

Elena reluctantly crawled closer to the edge and pulled her flashlight from her pants. She tossed it down, hoping that the landing wouldn’t break it and felt a stirring of satisfaction when she heard Nathan fumble to catch it.

“Thanks,” he said, and in the yawning darkness Elena saw a light flicker on.

While Nathan hunted for a way up, Elena scooted away from the edge. She was suddenly feeling exhausted and let her head drop down onto her knees with a sigh.

She was still in that position when Nathan finally crawled out of the hole with a noise of effort.

“Whew!” he said, panting slightly. “I think I was unconscious for a few seconds there.”

Elena didn’t even bother to reply, but her eyes slid up to see the treasure hunter, battered, dusty, and bleeding in a few places, but no more worse for wear than usual. He saw her gaze and frowned slightly.

“Hey, are you okay?” he said, crawling to her side. “Did you get hit by any rubble or something?” He sounded genuinely worried and automatically brushed the loose strands of hair that she could never tie back away from her face.

Elena stared at him for a moment, incredulous. He’d just been chased by a bunch of terrifying zombies, thought he’d lost his best friend (temporarily), and fallen down a hole and been knocked unconscious, but he was concerned about her?

She laughed a little, a chuckle that shook her chest. “You really need to get your priorities sorted, Nate.”

“What?” he said dumbly, his hand faltering near her cheek.

Elena tilted forward and bumped her forehead against Nate’s shoulder. His shirt was filthy and he honestly smelled kind of bad, but she’d never been more relieved in her life to see someone. All she wanted was a moment of peace and quiet, without having to worry about dying or monsters or bad guys.

“Give me a little warning next time,” she mumbled into his shirt. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Nate was still for a moment, and Elena could tell he was assessing the situation. Finally, he sighed, and placed a warm hand on her back, rubbing it gently. “I’ll try to avoid it,” he said jokingly. “Because, trust me, no one watches out for my own health like I do.”

Another laugh shook Elena, one that dislodged the lump in her throat and urged her tense muscles to relax as she fell further against him. “Good.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elena searches for Nate after the train crash in Nepal.   
> Italics = Tibetan

Elena had been trailing the train tracks for at least two hours when she came upon the wreck. A giant, steaming collapse, like the rusting carcass of a whale that had been beached in snow instead of sand. Almost immediately, fear had gripped her, and she’d searched the remains relentlessly, shivering even after she put on layer after layer.

There was no sign of Nate... but that was good.

She found bodies though. Lots of them. Most of them had been killed from the crash, but a few had bullets in their sides and leaked bright red blood into the snow. She followed the trail, her heart in her throat and her eyes constantly searching for familiar spiky brown hair or the gleam of an engraved ring hanging around someone’s chest.

She searched for a good half hour, feeling despair and hope battle in her mind, when the crunch of snow made her head snap up, hand on her gun.

 _“I’m sorry,”_ a man said, taking a step back and his arms rising. He was speaking in Tibetan. _“I didn’t mean to surprise you.”_

He was dressed in the traditional clothes of the region, and even though they were bulky, Elena suspected that he wasn’t carrying anything dangerous on him. He definitely wasn’t with the guys who were littering the crash site. Her body relaxed slightly.

 _“It’s alright,”_ she replied. Her Tibetan was a bit rusty, but passable at least.

 _“Are you searching for survivors too?”_ the man asked.

Elena felt her stomach clench and she nodded. _“Yes—you?”_

 _“Always,”_ the man said seriously. _“My name is Tenzin. You are?”_

 _“Elena,”_ she said, flashing him a quick, tight smile. _“I’m... looking for my friend. He was on the train when it crashed... I think.”_

Tenzin’s eyes widened _. “Wait—are you talking about a young man? In his thirties, with a ring on a rope around his neck?”_ he said, gesturing to his own neck in emphasis.

Elena felt her heartbeat quicken and resisted the urge to step forward and shake Tenzin in her excitement. _“Yes, yes, that’s him!”_ she said eagerly. _“Where is he? Is he okay?”_ When she saw Tenzin’s expression, however, she hesitated, feeling dread. _“What is it?”_

Tenzin sighed. _“I found him a few hours ago. He was very close to death, both from the cold and a bullet wound to the stomach. I brought him back to my village to see if we could heal him, but we’re not sure if he’ll make it.”_

Hearing those words, Elena felt her skin go hot then cold in quick succession. “Nate,” she gasped aloud, her breath steaming in the freezing air. She’d been clinging to the hope that the treasure hunter was still alive, even though the logical, reporter part of her tried to quell it just in case something terrible did happen... She didn’t know what she’d do if she got there and Nate was already dead.

 _“Can you take me to him?”_ she asked Tenzin, a little desperate. _“Please?”_

The Tibetan man nodded his head, his eyes sympathetic. _“Of course. Follow me.”_ He turned around and began to trek away from the train. Elena didn’t waste any time and followed him, her mind already concocting up a dozen scenarios over what might have happened to wreck the train like that.

Tenzin led her on a path down the mountain, and after a half hour, the snow had disappeared, whilst a well-worn path made itself known beneath her feet. She could soon see the makings of a village, perched precariously on the side of the mountain. The architecture was interesting, and the bright fabrics that adorned most of the houses created a beautiful contrast with the washed out and cold landscape. Not for the first time, Elena half-wished she’d brought her camera.

 _“This way,”_ Tenzin said as they entered the outskirts of the village. He gestured towards a house near the middle, still visible because of their vantage point. “We put him in there.”

Elena felt her heart begin to thud painfully again. What if he was gone already? She’d never even gotten a chance to... She shook her head. Now wasn’t the time for regrets. And Tenzin had said Nate was still alive when he’d left the village to go back to the wreck. Besides, Nate was one of the craziest and toughest people Elena knew—if anyone could survive a train crash, being shot in the stomach, and then stuck in the cold without the proper gear, it was Nathan Drake.

She garnered a few curious looks from the other villagers, and she gave most of them distracted smiles and vague ‘hellos’ in Tibetan. Normally she would have jumped on the opportunity to know some of them better, considering how much of a people person she was, but her creeping worry kept her from it.

 _“In here,”_ Tenzin said, stopping in front of the door of the building he’d indicated before. As he opened the door and stepped aside to let her in, Elena spotted a young girl, huddled by a fire place, her dark eyes solemn and intent on a corner of the room. When she spotted Tenzin, she leapt to her feet.

 _“Father!”_ she said, running forward to grab Tenzin by the legs. _“You’re back!”_

 _“Pema,”_ Tenzin said warmly, stroking a hand over her soft black hair. _“Yes, I’m here now.”_

Pema glanced at Elena, frowning slightly. _“Is she friends with the train man?”_ she asked Tenzin.

 _“Yes,”_ Elena answered for him, leaning down with a smile. _“Is he...”_ She hesitated. _“Is he here?”_

Pema’s smile faded and she nodded. _“He’s over there,”_ she said, tilting her head towards the corner of the room she’d been staring at so seriously.

Without hesitating, Elena immediately hurried over. Nate was on a small bed, completely still and paler than she’d ever seen him.

“Nate?” she said worriedly, collapsing onto her knees beside the bed in her rush, and leaned over him. Tenzin and Pema had taken his shirt off for the time being, apparently judging that any hypothermia had already gone and focusing on his injury. She winced as she saw the large stretch of bandage wrapped around his entire torso, already stained slightly red. His shirt, in a pile next to the bed, was completely soaked through with blood and Elena felt a small tremor go down her back as she tried to convince herself that at least some of it belonged to the dead bodies she’d seen before.

She tentatively reached forward, brushing her knuckles against Nate’s cheek. He was warm, almost feverish beneath her touch, and she swallowed hard.

“Damn it, Nate,” she whispered, her thumb brushing over his cheekbone. “What did you do?” But he was still alive—that was much better than what she’d been preparing herself for.

She turned towards Tenzin and Pema, who were staring at her and Nathan with pity in their eyes. _“Can you tell if he’s going to be okay?”_ she asked, her hand still on Nate’s cheek.

Tenzin came closer, interpreting her question as permission, and Elena moved aside so he could inspect Nate. He unwrapped the bandage around Nate’s torso, revealing a stitched up hole in the middle of his stomach. Elena had become used to seeing gore and injuries—after all, reporting on Lazarovic had been her job for the past few months. But seeing Nate with a nearly life-threatening wound was another story altogether. Her teeth ground together as a sudden helplessness overtook her. If only she’d gone with him...

 _“He should be alright after tonight,”_ Tenzin said after a while, replacing the bandage. _“But it was close.”_

Elena nodded. _“Thank you,”_ she said, her voice suddenly thin and tired as she realized that Nate was out of the woods for now. _“So much. If you hadn’t saved him...”_

Tenzin shook his head, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. _“It’s no trouble. We wouldn’t have left him out there to die, not when we could do something to help.”_ Pema hummed in agreement, sending Elena a shy smile.

Elena nodded, a weary smile of her own lighting up her face. Now that she was here at Nate’s side, all she wanted to do was sleep and forget this had all happened. As if sensing her exhaustion, Tenzin spoke again.

 _“If you would like, there’s a spare bed in one of the neighbouring houses,”_ he said kindly. “You should get some rest.”

But Elena was already shaking her head. _“If it’s alright with you, I’ll sleep here,”_ she replied, her gaze drifting to Nate’s slack face. She didn’t want to leave him alone, not like this.

Tenzin nodded in understanding. _“That’s fine. We’ll keep an eye on him while you sleep.”_ He turned away, but hesitated a moment. _“He’s very lucky, to have someone like you,”_ he remarked over his shoulder.

Elena smiled a little. _“I think it goes both ways,”_ she answered.

Tenzin huffed out something that might have been a laugh, then went about his business. Pema returned to her spot by the fire, though this time with a doll to occupy herself with.

Elena returned her attention to Nate. At least he seemed peaceful while he slept... That was a good sign. “You nearly gave me a heart attack, you know,” she murmured to him. “It’s a good thing I like you so much, otherwise I wouldn’t have forgiven you for it.”

Almost subconsciously, she slipped her hand into his and held on tight. She watched him for a few more moments, scanning his face for any sudden discomfort, but there wasn’t any to be found. At last, overcome by her exhaustion, Elena leaned forward onto the side of the bed, her forehead pressed against their joined hands. Within moments, she had dozed off.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nate goes missing for five days, and Elena is far from pleased. Set between Among Thieves and Drake's Deception.

Nate had been gone for five days. Five whole days, without any emails or phone calls or even a goddamned letter. It was a good thing it was the weekend now, because Elena had spent Tuesday through Friday in a daze, her hand always twitching to pick up her cell just in case her husband decided to call.

She was in the living room, staring absently at the TV when she heard the jiggle of the lock and the turn of a handle. Elena felt relief swim through her brain and practically leapt to her feet.

“Nate?” she called out, holding her breath for an answer.

“Uh, hey, Elena,” came the weary reply.

Elena rounded the corner, her arms already crossed over her chest before she could even think of doing it. Nathan was busy trying to close the door with his duffel in hand, wincing from what was probably a wound of some kind. She felt worry stir in her belly, alongside a deep anger that was becoming far too familiar these days.

“So, where have you been?” she said, trying to keep her voice light. She didn’t think she was succeeding.

Nate glanced over his shoulder at her as he finally locked the door, and Elena knew she wasn’t imagining the guilt in his eyes. She bit her lip and kept her focus on his face, but instead of connecting their gazes her eyes kept sliding to the warm yellow light of the lamps on his bruised skin.

“I was, uh...” the treasure hunter began, shouldering his duffel uncomfortably. “I had a job.”

“Oh,” Elena said conversationally, leaning against the wall. “What kind of job?”

Nathan fiddled with the strap of his bag, clearly struggling for words, and she shook her head.

“You know what?” she said, her voice flat. “Forget it.” Her chest was hurting, and she couldn’t stand looking at him anymore. She turned around stiffly and stalked back into the living room.

Instead of going upstairs to her ( _their_ , she corrected herself) bedroom, Nate followed her. She sat herself down on the couch and stared at the TV, the screen flickering blankly in her eyes.

“Elena,” Nate said, his voice sounding guilty and all too despairing for her liking. “I’m sorry, I know-”

She couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“You’re _sorry_?” she spat. “Oh, that’s good to hear, Nate. In fact, it’s just as good to hear as the hundreds of other times you’ve said it when you come crawling back home in the middle of the night after being gone for days at a time!”

Her voice was steadily rising and she could see the effort on Nate’s face as he tried not to react to her anger and give a calm response.

“I know, it was unfair of me,” he said, his voice level. “But it was really urgent, I swear. If I hadn’t gone—”

“But that’s the thing, Nate,” Elena said sharply, shaking her head. “Every single time, it’s urgent, that this new lead will definitely give you what you want. Every single time, you tell me that you’re sorry, and that you’ll at least _tell me_ the next time you decide to go searching for treasure, or that you’ll call. But it never happens, so what on earth is that ‘sorry’ supposed to mean to me? You don’t get that every time you go off like that—”

Her words died in her throat and she fixed her gaze on the TV again, feeling traitorous stinging in her eyes.

_I worry that you’re not going to come back. Every time I find out you’re missing it feels like my heart’s stopped until you walk through that door, safe._

But she didn’t say anything and hoped that the cavernous silence between her and Nate would swallow her whole.

“I have to see this through.” The words were soft, and almost sad.

Elena glanced at him. He was standing, but slumped, his shoulders lowered in defeat and a look of pain in his eyes. She knew what he meant without having to ask.

Sir Francis Drake. A mystery that was somehow more important than her. That was more important than Nate’s life.

“But I _can’t_ , Nate,” she said helplessly. Her throat was tightening uncomfortably, as if a noose had been wrapped around it. “I can’t keep having you disappear in the middle of the night. When you leave like that, I never... I never know if you’re going to come back.”

Nate was silent, and Elena didn’t dare to look at him.

“We’re supposed to be partners,” she said, her voice threatening to splinter from the emotion that was welling up in her. She hated getting upset like this, but the lonely, empty months had piled up and up, and another bout of stressful worrying had finally pulled the final string free. “You need to tell me what’s going on, but you never do, no matter how much I ask you.” She sighed, one hand mussing up her hair. “How are we supposed to work like this, Nate?”

A part of her wanted him to come closer so badly. To apologize, properly this time, and for him to try harder at keeping her updated on what was going on. Even better, for him to completely give up, to decide that Sir Francis Drake wasn’t worth messing up their marriage like this. But the other part of her knew that Nate couldn’t do that, at least not right now. She shouldn’t expect him to change his mind, not if this problem had been plaguing them for months now without any change.

He still hadn’t said anything, and Elena felt a sharp grief in her heart.

She wanted to give him an ultimatum, but she wasn’t that type of person. If it forced him to stay, he’d be miserable and she’d be guilty, and everything would fall apart anyway. If it made him leave, she’d know where she stood and it would be unbearably painful. It was best to give him an easy way out. But more than anything, she secretly hoped that her being away would give him some time to think, to decide that he really wanted to stay with her.

“I should... probably go,” she said unsteadily. “There’s some food in the fridge.” The words were an afterthought, an anxious remark. Nate often skipped on dinner when he was tired, resulting in even more fatigue the following day.

“Elena,” Nate said, and she could hear the crack in his voice as he realized what she was doing.

“Don’t, Nathan,” she said with a sigh as she heaved herself to her feet. She could practically feel him flinch at the use of his full name. “I just need some time alone. Call in the morning.” It was an invitation, but her voice was hollow.

She brushed past him, studiously avoiding his gaze as she went to grab her bag from the counter. She knew without having to check that her phone, wallet, and keys were already in there, and part of her wondered if she’d subconsciously been feeling the need to eventually cool off somewhere else.

As Elena walked past Nate, who was still standing utterly still in the living room, she had to tear her eyes away. If she looked at him, she would give up, change her mind, go to bed and stay awake until he slid in beside her, and if he didn’t, have a sleepless night.

 _This is better,_ she protested in her mind. _It’s better for him. For me._

She was still trying to convince herself when she shut the door behind her.

_He’ll call in the morning._

She slept at a friend’s house that night, one who nodded sympathetically and didn’t ask questions, only opened the door wider to let her in. It took her ages to actually get to sleep, but when she did, she was out like a light for a good nine hours.

When she woke up, the first thing she did was check her phone. The ‘no messages’ glared out at her in sharp, white print. She put it away, swallowing the lump in her throat and telling herself he might just have been too scared to contact her.

She got home an hour later. The door was locked. The bed hadn’t been touched. His drawers were significantly less full. Most painful of all was the handwritten note on the counter, one that simply said, ‘I’m sorry’.

Elena felt her heart shudder to a painful, lurching halt as she understood what he had chosen. When it started beating again, it felt as if it would shatter with the force that it was pounding with against her rib cage.

She carefully folded the note with trembling hands and tucked it in her pocket. No matter how much it hurt, it was time to move on. At least this way, any future heart attacks caused by Nathan Drake would hopefully be prevented.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nate and Elena have a brush with death and get back to the hotel. Set between Drake's Deception and A Thief's End.

They stumbled into the hotel room at about one in the morning, both tired and bleeding. Nate was limping heavily, clutching at his blood-soaked side while Elena supported him. She’d suffered a few cuts and bruises, but it was nothing compared to the bullet hole in Nate’s side and her full attention was focused on it.

“Just settle down here,” she said briskly, gently pushing Nate onto the bed. “I have a first aid kit in my suitcase, just let me get it...”

Nate was clearly too exhausted for words and his face was drawn with pain as he slumped forward a little. The room was dark, lit only by the moon and the lights of the town outside, outlining his exhausted form in silver. Elena flipped one of the switches as she went to the closet, turning on a small lamp on the far bedside table that illuminated the room with a low, muted yellow glow.

Elena felt her worry rising with each passing moment as she flipped open the lid of her suitcase and rifled through it. “Here it is,” she aloud, pulling out the red box. Out of habit more than anything else, the kit was filled with more than just the basics. It had antiseptics and needle and thread, just in case something like this happened. She also nipped to the bathroom to grab a few hand towels and soak them in water.

She returned to Nate’s side. “Hey, can I lift your shirt?” she said gently.

Her husband grinned and joked, “Shouldn’t you buy me dinner first?” with a salacious wink.

Elena rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to shove him. “You’re impossible,” she said, even though a smile was twitching at her lips. If Nate was messing around, then things weren’t that bad.

She carefully took the edge of Nate’s Henley and lifted it upwards. It peeled from his skin and the treasure hunter couldn’t suppress a hiss of pain.

“Sorry,” Elena murmured, stroking his shoulder with her hand briefly. “I’ll cut the rest away.” She grabbed a pair of scissors from the kit and started cutting away the wet fabric. It stained her hands red whenever she touched it and Elena’s lips pressed into a thin line as she saw the damage.

“That bad, huh?” Nate said ruefully.

“You’re fine,” Elena replied automatically, and although it was true, in her mind the image of Nate being shot and collapsing in front of her flickered like an awful movie. “We just need to clean and then stitch the wound... Bandages... Shower...”

“You’re rambling,” Nate said, his voice gentle as he stared at her.

Elena shook her head. “It’s just...” She sighed. “It’s been a long day.”

“You said it,” Nate agreed.

She refocused her efforts on cutting away the rest of Nate’s shirt, wincing as the hole in his abdomen began to leak blood again. She pressed some gauze against it, making Nate flinch, and gently began to clean the area around the bullet hole. The white fabric was soon stained red, but Elena kept mopping up the blood and filth on both Nate’s abdomen and the place in his side where the bullet had exited.

“You’re really lucky, you know?” she mumbled as she dropped the towel she’d used on the floor uncaringly and began to thread the needle after placing Nate’s own hands on the bullet wounds with gauze. The bullet had passed clean through, without hitting any bones or anything vital. She gently pushed the hand on his abdomen aside so she could begin sewing the injury shut.

“Yeah,” Nate said, his voice soft.

Elena glanced up at him, only to see that he was staring right back at her, his eyes warm and relieved and tired. She gave him a lopsided grin and pressed her lips to his cheek briefly before she resumed her sewing.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack,” she continued as she pulled the last stitch through and began to tie it. Her voice regained a slight tension as she recalled the events of only a few hours ago. “You didn’t need to push me out of the way like a hero or something.”

“As if you wouldn’t have done the same thing,” Nate scoffed, wincing slightly as she tugged on the thread one last time before snipping it.

Elena shrugged. He had a point. “True,” she conceded, her gaze flicking to his face again. “But that doesn’t make it any less easy to see someone I love take a bullet for me.” She didn’t add how for a few seconds she thought he’d been dead and had felt an overwhelming despair that had become way too familiar the past few years.

Two large, warm hands stopped hers just as she was starting on the exit wound. “’Lena,” Nate began, bringing her hands to his chest. Elena gazed at him, trying to keep her expression blank. “I know that this kind of stuff is hard to deal with. God knows I’m the same... The reason I got in the way of that bullet is the exact same as the reason you’re upset I did it in the first place.” He smiled at her crookedly. “If you’d have taken that bullet, I’d be the one that was suffering from a near heart attack.”

Elena snorted a laugh, and felt the tension in her shoulders ease a little. But there was still the slight worry, the undercurrent of guilt. As if he was sensing it, Nate leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers. “I’m going to be okay,” he murmured, his warm breath fanning against her skin.

Elena nodded slightly, her throat tightening. “And so am I,” she reminded him, twining their fingers together. “I can hold my own out there as well.”

A laugh rumbled through his chest. “Don’t I know it,” Nate said, his eyes twinkling as he pulled away slightly. “After all, you were the one that punched me in the face after Sully and I left you behind that one time.”

“Exactly,” Elena said primly. “But right now, I need to finish patching you up so we can both take a shower and get to bed.”

Reluctantly, they unwound their hands and Elena got back to work. After stitching up the other wound, she carefully began to dab at it with antiseptic. Nate hissed slightly whenever the liquid touched his raw, red skin, but otherwise didn’t complain. Once that was done, all she had to do was place some gauze over the wounds and wrap up his abdomen with some bandages. Satisfied with her work, she leaned back and sighed.

“There you go,” she said, pleased. “All done.”

“Thanks,” Nate replied, looking down so he could prod lightly at the white strip of fabric. She smacked his hand away.

“Don’t touch it,” she chided. “I’m going to take a shower, and that bandage had better be in place when I get back. Use the other towels to clean yourself up, if you can.”

Nate grinned. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, flopping back against the bed.

Their hotel was nice, maybe even nicer than usual, and because of that the bathroom was particularly glorious. Elena had noticed over the years how that happened—the bathrooms were often prioritized rather than the bedrooms. Not that she was complaining-she’d long ago learned that a good shower beat a nice bed any day.

She stepped beneath the showerhead and closed the glass partition behind her. Her legs ached, and after turning on the water and making sure it was nearly unbearably hot, she promptly sat down on the floor and cleaned herself off there.

She let her hair down so she could wash that as well, sighing in relief once the blond strands slid through her fingers easily and silkily once again. Washing off all the grime and the blood and the mud made her feel as if she was a snake, shedding her skin and re-emerging from the shower pink and warm and ready to face the world again.

Or, at least, ready to face her bed.

When she exited the bathroom, she wasn’t surprised to see that the light had been turned off, but it didn’t take too long for her to return to her suitcase and fumble on some clean underwear, sleep shorts, and a long shirt.

Nate was still in bed, but remarkably cleaner and dressed in some boxers and a tee. He was still awake, despite being tangled in the covers, and moved aside to let his wife slip in beside him.

“Feeling better?” he murmured, rolling over to watch her.

Elena nodded, reaching out to cradle his jaw with her hand. “You?” she replied, stroking a thumb over his cheekbone.

She felt his stubbly skin stretch into a smile. “I downed some meds to keep the pain away, and some antibiotics just in case,” he said.

Elena patted his cheek. “Good,” she said, feeling relief stir in her. It had been a long, hard day, and a scary one too. But Nate was okay, and so was Sully. That was all that mattered. “We’ll need to be a bit more careful next time.”

Nate hesitated and Elena paused, staring at the silvery outlines of his face. “What if,” he started hesitantly, and she felt a sudden anxiety start to thrum in her veins. “What if there doesn’t need to be a next time?”

For a moment, Elena didn’t understand what he had just said and blinked owlishly. When it sank in, she took a deep, startled breath. “Nate,” she began, then trailed off almost immediately. It had been over a year since Yemen, over a year since they’d reunited. Sir Francis Drake had been packed away, and although Nate still took jobs with Sully, he always told her what was going on first and made an effort to keep contact with her when he was away. More often than not, he even let her come with him, and that had been the biggest proof that he wanted to make their relationship work.

But this... It was something she’d sometimes wished would happen, but now that it was here she could feel an aching guilt in her stomach.

“Are you sure?” she whispered in the dark, her hand slipping away from her husband’s face.

Nate clasped her fingers before she could withdraw. His green-blue eyes, although barely discernable in the darkness, were staring at her intensely. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while, ‘Lena,” he said honestly. “For about six months, at least.”

She stared at him in amazement. “Oh my God, Nate.”

He chuckled. “I know, right?” The laughter eased, and his voice grew serious again. “But I want this. Honestly. And it’s time for me to settle down, get a regular job, maybe a bigger house...” Elena was already grinning, and before he could finish, she leaned forward and kissed him. He responded enthusiastically, pressing back against her and opening his mouth to deepen it.

“I love you,” she murmured when they came up for air.

Nate pressed his lips to her neck, her chin, her cheek, her nose. “I love you too,” he replied, and the rawness in his voice made Elena lean in and kiss him softly again.

They settled down after that, both at ease and content despite their respective injuries and the dull fog of exhaustion returning. Nate shifted so that he could rest with his head on Elena’s abdomen, releasing breaths that matched the rise and fall of her stomach. She knew that he sometimes felt the need to be wrapped around her in this way, to feel her breathing or heartbeat. She was the same—like this, with his heavy weight on her and her arms around him, she could fall asleep without feeling the creeping worry that he would be gone in the morning. She carded her hand through his hair soothingly, and soon enough they were both asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nate and Elena reunite in Libertalia.

Elena was going to murder him. It was that simple. She’d promised herself that she wouldn’t go after him, that she wouldn’t forgive him, no matter what Sully said, and yet, here she was. Traipsing through a jungle on an island off the coast of Madagascar, avoiding Shoreline troops and secretly praying that her husband was still alive.

Not that she cared, of course.

Elena puffed in frustration. It was way too hot and humid, and her tank was already soaked with sweat. She’d been tracking down the Drake boys by following the sounds of gunfire. She guessed she was behind them by a couple of hours, but hopefully she would catch up to them in the Shoreline jeep she’d stolen soon enough.

A voice crackled in from the radio at her hip. “Sweetheart, you there?”

Elena slowed down and unclipped the radio. “I’m here, Sully,” she replied, keeping her eyes on the not-road ahead. “Do you see anything from up there?”

“Not yet,” he sighed. “I was hoping that you’d have better luck than me.”

She shook her head. Then, realizing that Sully wouldn’t be able to see it, she spoke again. “No, haven’t seen them yet. But it’s not that hard to follow in their tracks.” The path of destruction was obvious and so unavoidably Drake-ish that Elena thought it was no wonder how bad guys kept finding them. Not to mention there were two of them now, which meant twice the catastrophe.

Her fingers tightened around the radio. Two of them. Yet another lie that Nate had kept hidden from her.

“Elena?”

She snapped out of it and cleared her throat. “Sorry, Sully. What was that?”

The old man chuckled, the noise warped by static. “I was just reminding you not tear Nate a new one right when you get to him.”

The journalist smiled, but it was humourless. “Yeah, well, maybe you two should’ve thought about lying to me first.”

Sully was silent for a moment and Elena immediately felt guilty. She knew it wasn’t his fault, and they’d talked about this between King’s Bay and here—although he’d been an accomplice, he hadn’t supported the idea either.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “That was... unnecessary.”

“It’s fine,” Sully replied. “I understand that you’re pissed. It’s normal, given the circumstances. I’m honestly surprised you didn’t rip into me more back there.”

Elena hummed, not quite agreeing nor disagreeing. “I’ll keep you posted, alright, Sully?” she said after a brief pause.

“Alright, sweetheart. Be careful out-” Sully suddenly stopped talking and Elena frowned.

“Sully?” she said, glancing at the radio. It should have been working.

“Elena, I think you’ll need to step on it,” the old man said suddenly, his voice deadly serious.

She frowned. “What? Why?” she asked, even though a familiar dread was stirring in her belly. “What did you see?” Her voice faltered as she spotted what had provoked Sully’s concern. In the distance, higher up on one of the mountains of the island, she could see the clouds of earth and dust that indicated that there had either been an explosion or that the foundations of a building had abruptly collapsed. She slammed on the brakes and screeched to a muddy halt as she watched in horror.

“Sully, give me some info,” she said urgently, her eyes cast overhead to the bright blue sky.

“On it,” he replied grimly, and she could see his plane soaring through the sky. It veered suddenly left, towards the source of the collapse or explosion, whatever it was. He circled above it for a few moments. “There’s some kinda argument going on down there,” he said after a moment, his voice tense. “I can see a few people—I think it’s Nate and Sam... Nadine’s with them. Shit, and Rafe, along with some Shoreline goons.”

Elena’s hands tightened around the steering wheel. “Are they alright?” she demanded.

“For now.” There was a silence, although Sully was keeping the connection between the two radios open. All of a sudden, he mumbled under his breath, “What is that idiot doing?”

“What’s going on, Sully?” Elena said, her eyes trained on the plane.

“Sam’s got—No, wait, Rafe’s...” He didn’t answer, and the journalist could imagine him squinting at the scene far below, trying to discern what was happening. Instead of bugging him further, she stayed quiet.

“Sweetheart, you need to drive here right now,” Sully finally said, sounding as if he was trying to be calm, but not really succeeding.

Elena obeyed, pressing into the gas pedal and taking off like a shot. “What happened?” she asked, her voice sharp with worry.

“Someone just fell off a cliff.”

Unwittingly, the image of Nate sprawled across rocks, bleeding everywhere and staring sightlessly at the sky crossed her mind and Elena shuddered. “I’m on my way,” she said. “You should get out of there before they spot you.”

“Will do,” Sully said, his voice tight. “Make sure they’re okay.”

The radio lost the static background noise and she knew that he’d turned it off on his end. She took a shivery breath and sped up even further.

She really was going to kill him.

It took her another half hour to get close to the site of the collapse. Unfortunately, since she’d taken as straight a route as possible, she was faced with a huge cliff, one that stretched out for what looked like miles. She stared up at it, at the ragged, crumbling buildings that could only be Libertalia and sucked her lower lip between her teeth. There was no way she was getting up there anytime soon, not if she wanted to go all the way around. It would take at least another few hours.

She parked the jeep on a small outcropping next to a partially destroyed house. It was surrounded by a stream that cut into the earth and formed muddy furrows, headed forever downhill into the jungle where it would inevitably meet up with a river and go to the ocean.

Elena jumped out of the jeep and walked over to the crumbling stone wall that separated the remains of the house from a bunch of small plateaus that formed giant steps, all the way down to the muddy slide that trickled water.

Her eyes wandered over the scene sharply, trying to take in every detail. She wasn’t as good a historian as Nate or Sully, but it did seem like the buildings she’d seen so far were from Avery’s era. Assuming that Sam was right, that meant that—Her train of thought stopped suddenly as she spotted something down the mudslide.

Without any hesitation, she vaulted over the wall and landed on one of the plateaus. Steadily, she made her way down to the one that was closest to the nearly cliff-like hill, careful to avoid the rushing water for the time being. She was certain now—she’d seen a flash of red down there.

She peered closer at the source of it and felt unease wash over her. All of a sudden, she could only recall Sully mentioning that someone had fallen off the cliff. There was something down there that was looking more and more like a body. A limp body, swept to the side of the stream, and surrounded by red-stained water.

“Hello?” she called out tentatively. The person didn’t answer. She leaned over the mudslide, feeling her heart catch in her throat as one detail popped out like a warning signal. She recognized that gun holster.

“Nate?”

The body didn’t stir, but she was becoming more and more convinced that the person down there was her husband, unconscious or maybe dead, in a pool of his own blood.

“Shit,” she hissed, feeling her voice catch in throat. “Nate?!” Her voice was louder this time, and a flock of colorful birds suddenly exploded from the jungle, making her flinch.

 _He could be dying down there,_ a voice whispered in her brain. _He could already be dead._ It was terribly reminiscent of the first time they’d met, when Nate had fallen down that hole in the Nazi base. It was so long ago, but the terror suddenly gripping her chest was just as painful as back then.

There was no roundabout way to get to him, not as far as she could see. Before any more thoughts could enter her brain, she leapt off the plateau, arms pin-wheeling for balance. She landed in the stream with an ‘oomph!’ and found herself rapidly slipping down the hill with barely any control. Her hands scrabbled in the mud for any type of purchase, but she only succeeded in getting slathered in brown goo. Within moments, she’d been carried to the bottom of the hill and just barely stopped herself from rolling to a halt.

She shakily got to her feet, her eyes already seeking out Nate. Now that she was closer, she could instantly tell that the body was definitely her husband. She ran over, splashing through water and fighting for air.

He was completely still, eyes closed. A gash adorned the left side of his face, and the blood was undoubtedly from a wound to the head. In her panic, Elena couldn’t even tell if he was breathing. “Oh God,” she said, leaning down and grabbing Nate’s face with her hands. “Nate?” Her voice was bordering on frantic. “Nate?!”

She pressed her ear to his chest, trying to slow her own breathing so she could tell if there was a heartbeat. After a moment of thinking there was nothing to be heard other than her own racing heart, she began to distinguish a steady ‘thump, thump, thump’.

Elena let out a shaky breath and wished that Nate was awake so she could throttle him for scaring her like that. She settled for growling at her unconscious husband instead, then looped her arms under his so she could slowly drag him out of the water.

One good thing about this island was that there were plenty of rocks to rest on, and Elena didn’t have to go far to find one that was big enough to prop Nate against. As she did so, he groaned lightly and his eyes flickered beneath their lids.

Elena pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a potential headache start to arise. Like an idiot, she’d completely forgotten to check the jeep for a first aid kit and had instead simply blundered down here to make sure Nate was okay. Judging by the steep mud slide, there was no way that she’d able to get back up there anytime soon, so she had to settle for a handkerchief in her pocket as a means of healing.

She grabbed Nate’s chin with one hand and careful tilted his head so she could see the back of it. There was definitely a lump, and one that was trickling blood at that, but it didn’t seem all that serious.

“Unbelievable,” she mumbled to herself. There were many reasons for her word choice, but above all else, it was probably, ‘It’s unbelievable that this idiot survived a collapsing building and falling off a cliff with nothing but a few minor injuries, _again_ ’. Or maybe it was unbelievable that despite still being upset with Nate, her worry had immediately clouded any rational judgement when she saw that he might be in danger. Either way: _unbelievable_.

“I hate you,” she muttered, though there wasn’t any actual aggression in her words. “I swear this is the hundredth time you’ve nearly given me a heart attack.”

She knelt down beside Nate and carefully began to inspect the rest of him. Like she’d assumed, there were no other major injuries, not even a graze from a bullet. His hands were slightly raw and his nails ragged and filthy, probably from climbing all over the place like the monkey he was. As she inspected them and pressed the handkerchief against his palms, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of relief to see that his wedding ring still gleamed on his finger.

She blinked and let go of his hands. Now really wasn’t the time.

On cue, Nate shifted again and winced, letting out a long, drawn-out “Ow.” His eyes slowly blinked open, still hazy from being unconscious. They widened slightly when they found and recognized Elena’s face though.

“Elena?” he said groggily, his face lighting up. “You’re here.”

He reached out in wonder to grab her arm, and although Elena let him, her gaze slipped away and she put on her best poker face. No matter how much he’d scared her, she wasn’t going to let that make her fall into his arms all over again. She deserved more than that.

Seeing her reluctance, Nate’s crinkly eye wrinkles smoothed and he frowned, pulling away. He was doing the puppy-dog face again, unwitting though it was. Thankfully, Elena had long ago built up a tolerance to it and the returning hurt now that she knew he was okay helped even more.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, scooting backwards a little so he could sit straighter against the border.

“What do you think?” Elena said dryly, giving him a pointed look.

Nate gave her a quirked grin, but it was uncertain and didn’t reach his eyes. There was an awkward silence as Elena focused on a crack in the boulder right next to Nate’s head, while his gaze dropped so he could observe with great interest the pebbles he was sitting on.

“Look, Elena,” he said at last. He was fiddling nervously with his wedding ring, twisting it around his finger and rubbing the smooth metal as if it would bring him luck. “I know that I lied to you. But I need to explain—”

“Start at the beginning,” Elena interrupted.

Nate glanced up at her, surprised. “What?”

Elena took a deep breath. If they wanted to fix things, he had to be willing to open up to her about his past, and Sam. This was... the first test.

“Start at the beginning,” she repeated. “Tell me about you, when you were a kid. With Sam. How you became Nathan Drake, how this whole Avery business started.”

Nate nodded slowly, his eyes regaining some hope. “I can—I can do that,” he said, straightening from his slump of self-pity.

“Good,” Elena said simply, then settled back so Nate could begin telling her what she wanted to know—everything.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elena awakens to find that Nate isn't in bed at 4 in the morning, but she's no longer worried. Set post A Thief's End.

Elena wasn’t sure what had woken her for the first few, brief moments of consciousness. She blinked sleepy and stared up at the white ceiling above (Nate insisted it was off-white, nearly cream, but what did he know about paint?), and realized that her husband wasn’t in the bed next to her.

Had this been a five or six years ago, this might’ve prompted her to panic, or sulk. As it was, she simply turned over to stare at the empty space and pass a hand over the spot where he should have been laying.

It was still a bit warm, and Elena guessed that him getting up must have accidentally roused her. She yawned and sat up to stretch her arms. One of the joints cracked and she winced a little to herself.

The sky was dark, she noted, passing a hand through her untied hair. She leaned over to look at the digital clock and shook her head with a sigh when she saw that it read 04:11 AM.

 _Well, too late to go back to sleep,_ Elena thought, decidedly awake now. She could at least check on Nate then head back to bed later. She slipped out of the bed and padded barefoot to the door. It was slightly open and she sucked in her stomach so she could dart through without moving it. The air still smelled a bit like the garlic sauce she and Nate had made to put with the pitiful remains of pasta that made up their current stock of food and she wrinkled her nose.

The light downstairs was on. Silently, Elena walked over to the stairs and went down them, her hand sliding on the smooth wooden banister.

“Nate?” she said quietly as she turned around the stairs into the living room.

“Shhh.” Nate pressed a finger to his lips, his eyes owlish with surprise. He was on the couch, Cassie in his arms and fast asleep. “I just got her to close her eyes.”

Elena couldn’t help but smile to see their baby daughter cradled in such big arms. She came over to the couch and stroked Nate’s head affectionately. She’d always found it funny how he leaned into her touch like a cat, and tonight was no different as he leaned back to follow the touch of her fingers.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Elena asked, her voice hushed.

Nate shrugged, but super gently. He was always like that with Cassie—both tense and gentle at the same time. “I thought you deserved a break,” he murmured. “Besides, you were out like a light and I didn’t want to wake you.” He frowned. “But it looks like I wasn’t quiet enough.”

Elena leaned forward so her head was next to Nate’s and she could inspect their daughter no closely. “It’s fine,” she said. “Seems like you managed fine without me.”

Ah, there it was. That idiotic grin that always came over Nate’s face whenever someone assured him he’d done something father-like had appeared. “I know right?” he said proudly. “Seems like I’ve got a magic touch.”

Elena rolled her eyes. “No way,” she teased. “It’s because _my_ magic touch rubbed off on you.”

“As if,” Nate scoffed. “We all know I have the most skill when it comes to handling treasure.”

The journalist snorted back a laugh and hit her husband on the shoulder. “Did you really just make a joke about our daughter being treasure?” she said, grinning wildly.

“Well, yeah,” Nate said, almost sounding a little wounded.

She soothed his hurt pride with a kiss to the cheek. “It was very funny, don’t worry,” she said against his stubbly cheek, still smiling. “I’ll be sure to tell Sam and Sully though.”

Nate groaned, his head flopping back against the couch. The movement provoked Cassie to gurgle something in her sleep though, and both parents immediately froze, eyes locked on to her tiny form like hawks. There was a moment of silence.

“I think we’re good,” Nate said finally, his voice incredibly quiet. They both relaxed. “That was close,” he sighed.

“Mhm,” Elena agreed, coming around the couch so she could sit next to Nate. She brought up her legs and leaned against his shoulder so they could both sit quietly and watch Cassie for a moment.

“You make a good dad, you know,” Elena said, her eyes still fixed on their daughter’s peaceful face. She could feel it as Nate became slightly tense beneath her cheek.

“What makes you think I need the reassurance?” he joked, but Elena could tell it was still bothering him.

“Well,” she said with a dramatic sigh. “Considering when I asked you the first time about how scared you were about being a father on a scale of one to ten, you said eleven...”

“Fair enough,” Nate conceded. “I guess.”

Elena suppressed a smile. “Nate, you put fatherhood above _clowns_ ,” she pointed out, unable to resist poking fun.

He was quiet for a moment. “True,” he said thoughtfully. “Maybe I was overreacting. A _little_ ,” he added, shooting her a faux-glare.

She patted his shoulder condescendingly. “Don’t worry honey, your secret’s safe with me. But I do find it incredibly unfortunate that I’ve never actually seen you in front of a clown before.”

“Well, that’s because I’ve gotten incredibly good at avoiding them. What do you think I meant when I said clowns were a ten out of ten? There’s no way I’d go anywhere near one.”

“You do realize we have a child now, right?” Elena pointed out. “Don’t you think she’d want to go to the circus at least once?”

Nate looked at her in horror, then down at Cassie. “If you betray me like that, I’m totally disowning you,” he whispered to the sleeping baby. “Or I can just make your mom go instead of me.”

Elena smirked. “Uh huh,” she said wryly. “But remember what people say about facing your fears!”

“Nah, I’ve faced enough of those in my lifetime,” Nate said decisively. “I think I deserve to stay away from clowns.”

“Definitely.” Elena’s words were a bit more serious than she’d intended, and Nate glanced at her. Without speaking, he offered his hand and she took it, squeezing lightly and prompting a soft smile from her husband.

“We should probably get her back to bed,” Nate said.

Elena nodded in agreement. “You’ve got it?” she said, lifting herself from the couch.

Nate grinned. “I think I can handle it.”

The journalist went back upstairs with a smile playing on her lips. Nate was at her heels, but veered off to Cassie’s bedroom so he could put her back in her crib. Elena slipped back into bed and despite thinking she hadn’t been tired earlier, she was asleep almost as soon as she hit the pillow. In her mind was the lingering contentment that Nathan Drake, although still far from predictable, had finally stepped giving her near heart attacks all the time. After all, a lady could only deal with so much stress! 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! If there are any mistakes in the fic (because, let's be real, who proofreads their work?) please feel free to tell me so I can fix it. 
> 
> P.S. Am I the only one who feels pretty much destroyed with happiness when you see that pic of Nate holding Cassie with Elena in the photo album? It kills me, it's such a great picture :,)


End file.
